


Magpies As Stepping Stones

by Linae_Liminae



Series: A Child Born From the Stars [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, From Sex to Love, arranged mating prompt, chosen child prompt, prophesy prompt, shiro's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10878015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linae_Liminae/pseuds/Linae_Liminae
Summary: “A match made in desperation does not always lead to terrible consequences.” Her heart clenched tight at the words. She bowed her head.“I’ll do as commanded, father.”





	Magpies As Stepping Stones

When Shiro woke it was to an unfamiliar ceiling and a sterile blanket haphazardly was thrown over his body. He blinked, taking in the sights of curving metal and the gentle glow of blue Altean energy with a frown and a throbbing in his head. His confusion spread as heavily as the drowsiness in his bones yet drilled habits were harder to break through.

He pushed his arms against the cot, flinging the gray blanket off his legs. His body was still clothed how he last remembered being dressed. Not much had changed there. He closed his eyes next, narrowing down even the slightest change in his body.

Disorientation, a sharp taste in his mouth, and a weakness in his muscles that was too telling of anything natural. He’d been drugged.

His mind struggled to pull up why though, so he settled on running his fingers over the smooth metal of his prosthetic. His arm’s systems appeared normal, relaying and receiving information from his mind without a noticeable change. So…no tampering then. His long sleeve shirt and glove hadn’t even been removed, so he wondered if his captors even knew of his trade secret.

Shiro opened his eyes, decidedly focusing on the finer details in his room. Curving walls and some minimal furniture aside, It was vacant, save for a single pitcher and a metallic mug set on the jutting metal appendage from the wall that might’ve counted as a nightstand. Almost immediately, Shiro recognized the fierce desire to pour himself a drink and soothe the dry bitterness in his mouth and throat.

He caught himself reaching, uncertain whether or not to trust the pitcher’s contents. Shiro dry swallowed and retracted his arm. Better safe than sorry.

The door to the room let out a soft whir and hiss. Shiro gave a small start, his mind sluggishly going through the motions of possible outcomes far too slow for his liking. In the end, he could only push himself to his feet in a defensive posture as the door slid open.

An Altean man walked in, bright orange hair and mustache telling Shiro more than enough to get an idea. His clothing, neat and tailored to the inch, hugged his body naturally. His stance was simple and at ease, yet clearly well postured. A servant of the royal family.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed, studying the man’s surprised expression before warily taking in the enthusiastic gleam that followed.

“Up already, are you?” the glorified butler exclaimed, voice lilting in a curious accent. “Color me impressed, human. Most species handle the mist with less refinement.”

“Why am I here,” Shiro demanded, keeping his hostility solely in his eyes. The obvious displeasure that filled the butler was not unseen.

“Huh, it’s true what they say about earthlings lacking tact, it seems,” the butler deadpanned. Shiro said nothing, but he did lessen his stance into a neutral position. “Well, not that it’s not well deserved!”

Shiro almost reeled at this man’s switching emotions, choosing to say nothing even while the servant all but bounced over to the pitcher and poured crystal clear water from the pitcher into the mug. Shiro’s throat clenched at the sight.

“Come, have a drink! I assure you, it’s not poisoned. A side effect we expect from the mist on your kind would be dehydration, so unless you’d like to suffer even more sluggishness, you might want some water.”

Shiro frowned, considering the man’s words before slowly approaching him and accepting the extended mug. He did not look away from the butler’s bright expression as he took a tentative sip. The second the water touched his tongue, though, Shiro could hardly stop himself from drowning the contents.

The clarity that followed was instantaneous. Judging by the beaming smile the butler gave him, Shiro’s relief was apparent.

“Call me Coran,” the butler said. “I’m a servant to the Royal Stronghold.”

“I know,” Shiro said before he could stop himself. He winced inwardly at Coran’s look of surprise. He mentally chided himself before turning to sit down on the edge of the cot. “Your clothes. It's... kind of obvious.”

“Indeed,” Coran replied. “Then again, you are from your Planet’s high command so I suppose it is silly of me to assume you lack the training as well as the knowledge.”

Shiro extended his mug and Coran gave a little start of his own before bringing the pitcher to the lip of Shiro’s cup and pouring a generous amount of water. Shiro helped himself to another long sip and sighed.

“So, when are you going to tell me why I’m here?”

Coran’s eyes twinkled as he set the pitcher down on the nightstand. “In due time, I just need to confirm some information if you don’t mind.”

“I know Earth has–had–no ill-connections with Altea, but you’ll have to excuse me when I say I do,” Shiro replied. “Good foreign relations don’t necessarily excuse kidnapping in our practices.”

“I assure you,” Coran said with an amicable bow of his head. “I’ll explain everything once I can be certain of your identity.”

Shiro raised a brow. Coran proceeded, however, his expression had steeled into a serious slate that made Shiro stiffen. “I will ask, but if you are not honest, I will know. It would be in your best interest, human, to avoid lying in this circumstance.”

Shiro’s right hand squeezed around his metal cup, leaving the slightest indentations on its curved surface. Tense as he was, he kept his face as neutral as possible. “I’m not in a position to deny anything, am I?”

Coran gave him a quick smile before straightening. “Are you Planet Earth’s Galactic International Aeronautics and Space Administration Chief Officer and Diplomatic Liaison, Takashi Shirogane, also known as codename: Sven?”

A solid ten seconds passed where Shiro remained as still as possible. His stomach lurched and his heart squeezed as he met Coran’s unmoving gaze. He drew in a breath, considering the last outcomes of potential answers in his mind.

“Who cares to know?”

“Princess Allura of the Altean Royal Family.”

A new voice broke between them as another figure walked through the open door. Shiro’s body jerked upright, eyes wide when he saw a hooded figure glide to stand by Coran’s side. The hood was nothing but a long piece of fabric with many curling stitchings and ceremonial decorations, it covered most of the woman’s face (for indeed it was a woman) save below her nose. The fabric was somewhat sheer and he wondered if she could see him better than he could see her face, but he couldn't say anything. Not when she moved to bring the fabric from around her face to rest over her crown.

The air in Shiro’s lungs escaped him in an unexpected gasp when he beheld her face. Her dark skin was a stark contrast to her cerulean eyes and magenta pupils. Her white hair fell past her cheeks in elegant waves, and he caught a golden diadem delicately placed over her forehead. He had heard rumors of the Altean Princess’s beauty. Rumors…

“It would be in our best interests if you answered my friend’s question.”

Shiro swallowed, tightening his jaw. “I heard rumors the entire royal family had been killed in Altea’s destruction.”

A flash of brutal ire burned past the Princess’s gaze before her expression composed itself to a slate of icy appraisal. “I am very much alive.”

“By all means, you shouldn’t be.” Shiro continued. “From what we’ve seen of Emperor Zarkon’s hand, you should be stardust now.”

“A fact that I’d like to keep far from Zarkon’s ears,” she shot back. “If Zarkon believes me to be dead, then that is all the better.”

Shiro was astounded, seeing the sheer force behind her eyes turn her presence sharp like a knife. He could see the hatred and pain pulsing around her as easily as the fabric that covered her. A tug of sympathy pushed his wariness aside, knowing full well the damage hatred against the Galra could do to someone. He glanced back at Coran and saw a similar slice of anger and devastation over the butler’s shoulders.

“It really is you,” Shiro said softly. “How have you survived all these years?”

“Carefully,” Coran replied for the princess. “Which leads us to our question.”

“Are you Takashi Shirogane?” Allura asked once more. Shiro frowned again, uncertain how to take the desperate gleam in her eyes. With a nod, Shiro reached to pull off his right hand’s glove.

Shiro flexed his fingers and tightened them into the shape of a blade, the technology glowing a bright pink and purple-ish hue. Allura’s eyes widened, her lips parting in a single gasp.

“I am,” he said. “I guess this makes us alike.”

“How?”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed before the glowing faded. “We both have reason to hate Zarkon.”

 

 

 

 

 

The invitation for a meal was more or less agreed upon for the sole fact that Shiro had nowhere else to go and a lot of hunger to quell. This so-called “mist” Coran mentioned was used on him had left several side-effects that came as no surprise to them, much to Shiro’s chagrin.

His irritation was easily subdued once they had sat down to a table of interesting dishes and some that looked familiar enough to warrant an appetite. It was after he dug into some of the less bizarre looking green goo and fixed meals, that Shiro realized there were a few more Altean men standing by as bodyguards. Or rather he supposed they were, judging by the similar markings on their faces and the matching outfits that followed Coran’s clothing style.

It was during their walk that Shiro gauged their location to be nothing more than a simple cruising vessel. Small enough to avoid attention but still grand enough that it was comfortable for a crew of twenty or more. It was noticeably Altean, judging by the blue crystal power and regal machinery. That further confused Shiro, but he kept silent.

Princess Allura had lowered her hood back to cover her face before they left Shiro’s temporary quarters, and she had refused to make any more conversation with them since his display of empathy. She sat and ate quietly, keeping to herself while her guards stood dutifully at her sides.

Coran cleared his throat halfway through their tense meal, eyes glancing about between Shiro and Allura respectively before giving a sigh. “Officer Shirogane,”

“Shiro is fine.” Shiro corrected.

“Shiro, then.” Coran amended, tugging his gloved fingers at his mustache. “What we are about to ask you will not be an easy question. Actually, it’s less of a question and more of a request. You must understand, this is not a simple matter for us… we’ve been heavily weighted down by the grievances of our planet’s destruction. Our situation is dire, and so we have little choice but to take desperate measures. I don’t exactly know how to put it any more delicate than I can afford to…and well…”

Shiro crossed his arms, tilting his chin to allow Coran his full attention, wary or otherwise. His eyes flickered back toward the Princess every so often, watching how she moved for a sign of what this request could be. She had ceased eating, her plate still half-full.

Coran paused for a moment, drawing in a breath that seemed to cause him some difficulty in expelling. Coran’s eyebrows furrowed in a defeated expression before he looked into Shiro’s eyes with a submissive gaze.

“Shiro, we ask you, with all the necessary means to pay you… please sire the Princess’s child.”

The air in Shiro’s lungs caught against his chest painfully, twisting his throat and leaving him to cough and sputter in shock. “You–I– _what?”_

“Hear me out,” Coran lifted his hands in a calming gesture. “I know this must be a lot to take in, but we wouldn’t ask you if we had no other alternative.”

“No other alternative?” Shiro echoed, eyes watering after taking a drink to soothe the knot in his throat. “What alternatives have you considered before asking me, of all people in the known universe, to…to have a child with the Princess?”

“It has not been decided without reason,” Allura’s voice was cold and distant. Shiro glanced at her, eyes wide as she clutched her mug with tight fingers. In the bluer lighting of the dining hall, he could almost see the outline of her eyes staring at her plate through her hood. “It was prophesied to happen. We just didn’t know it would be with you until we knew for certain.”

“Prophesied?” Shiro parroted, incredulous.

“Prior to the destruction of Altea,” Coran said. “We were a race that believed–and still believe–in greater powers than ourselves. Our own space vessels with which we use to spread peace in the galaxy exist through a weaving of power and intelligence that science alone cannot identify or explain. We prided ourselves in being united to these energies, and many times we’ve been able to use such energies to avoid wars and conflicts because of visions or revelations concerning their creation. We share what you humans barely understand, and so it doesn’t surprise me that you are in such disbelief…”

Coran interlocked his fingers over the table. “One such prophecy, an old one, foretold of the fall of Altea. How it would burn and how it would return to the realms of fire and light and it would come to pass due to the rage of a race we would consider dear and close. We never considered the Galra to be such a race, and we never believed Zarkon–of all people–would be the one to lead such a siege of hatred against our home.”

He broke off, voice tight with emotion. Shiro watched as he composed himself.

“The prophecy explains that the child of the only surviving member of the royal family and a warrior from the far reaches of the galaxy would be able to inherit the final birthright of the Black Lion of Voltron.”

“A Wives’ tale,” Shiro said with a shake of his head.

“Voltron is real,” Allura replied. “You may not believe in it because it goes beyond your understanding. But it exists…and it’s our only hope against Zarkon.”

“You expect me to believe that I am fated to be your child’s father?” Shiro asked. “I only am what I am now because of Zarkon. No other reason.”

“It is because of your trial and survival from Zarkon’s wrath that tells us you are the warrior of legend,” Coran replied. “There have been several versions of the legend, but only one tells how this warrior would have an arm that could call upon the strength of the stars.”

Coran motioned to Shiro’s right arm. Shiro flinched in surprise, glancing down at his hand.

“You were given that arm because you are fated to bring Zarkon’s end, Shiro.”

Shiro’s fingers clenched into a fist.

“Please,” Coran sighed. “Please consider it…at the very least. If you do decide you do not desire to help us, then we will not stop you. But please…we have nothing else. We have no one else. We only have you and the single hope to defeat Zarkon once and for all.”

Shiro remained still, glaring to the side and uncertain. A soft pressure on his left hand made him glance up. He was met with Allura’s blue eyes, gazing straight into his soul with a pleading look and desperate resolution curling her lips tight.

“Please…”

And against his better judgment, Shiro felt his heart give. He dropped his gaze to where her hand curled around his and Shiro could only give a single despairing thought before sighing.

“Alright… I’ll help you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their treatment of him changed almost immediately. He was no longer seen with thinly veiled distrust and willful neglect by the crew. Rather, the way they bowed and revered him was nothing short of what one would do for someone of great standing. Like royalty.

It made Shiro feel more out of place than when he first recalled waking in this ship. It was made known to him that he had been set up by his own government. The Alteans had made an offer Earth’s liaison couldn’t ignore and send him, ignorant and unknowing, to a distant planet to do a surveillance check on one of their colonies. It was there that Coran’s crew had made their move, snatching him from a marketplace and hijacking him into deep space before he could so much as fall to his knees from the mist that knocked him out. So long as the Alteans could provide a good amount of Balmeran crystals, Shiro would only have to do his part in assisting them and that was that.

Never mind actually asking him before agreements were exchanged and hands shook under tables.

He couldn’t figure out what irritated him most, the fact he was basically traded off like a prized hound for breeding, or the fact that Earth had been so easily persuaded. It only made the decision for him easier, however.

As soon as the deed was done, Shiro would find a way off the ship and away from this entire mess. He had family and friends to return to after all. Or so…that was the plan…

“I have to what?”

Coran crossed his fingers again, making motions that would be described as lewd if not for his clinical expression. “Copulate. You know? Intercourse. What do you earthlings call it… oh right, do the sex.”

Shiro’s cheeks flushed pink and he let out a growl as he waved off Coran’s hands from making any more gestures. “I’m not going to… do the sex… with anyone. Alright?”

“Well, then how do you intend to help us?” Coran asked with a blank expression. Shiro floundered, waving his hands around, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

“I figured I would only need to ejaculate and just give it to you guys… like in a bottle or flask, or something. Have your people never heard of artificial insemination before?”

Coran’s face was far too blank to leave anything to the notion that they did. Shiro groaned.

“I’m afraid not,” Coran said finally. “As it happens, while our shared species share a lot of things in common, our biology does have some differences.”

“Shocking,” Shiro replied snidely.

“I guess now is as good as ever,” Coran said. “Sit down, this may be a while.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An impromptu Altean Sex-education class later left Shiro with the only notion that he would actually need to sleep with Princess Allura to do his part. And no, it would not be able to be a painless quick fuck like he had expected after his artificial insemination idea was snuffed out. He would actually need to make sure she climaxed as soon as he came, as apparently not doing so would just be a massive waste of time. Great.

Wonderful.

As if that didn’t make circumstances with the already distanced Princess that much more complicated.

He could only hope that Altean women were not that much more difficult to please than human women. To Shiro’s growing dread, the answers to many questions beginning to pile up would have to be directed to the only one willing to provide such answers.

Several days later, Shiro found himself growing curious as to why they hadn’t had him and Allura do the deed yet.

“Are all human males this insensitive?” Coran asked him just as he made his inquiry. Shiro bristled at the offhanded comment.

“I’m trying to stay objective,” Shiro grunted. Coran rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I suppose it’s not your fault. Humans are still so primitive.” Shiro scowled at that. “Luckily, I can explain this easily. Much like human women, Altean women have a cycle of fertility. Plainly put, it’s not the right time. We cannot afford to put your efforts to waste and rush this. Once she’s ready, she’ll let you know. In the meanwhile, it wouldn’t hurt to actually talk to her, Chief Officer Shiro.”

Easier said than done.

Yet, in the time Shiro spent traveling the limited space of the cruising vessel, he had gotten to know the crew fairly well. They were only a small crew; fifteen individuals of different alien races including Alteans. One of the Alteans had surprised Shiro, having permanently adopted the appearance of a different species because he had found love that way and felt more comfortable in that form. The more and more Shiro found out about the Alteans, the more he realized he knew nothing of the Princess.

Somehow, his heart was growing more and more curious about her, and he found himself trying to figure a way to close the distance between them. He had no doubt that her heart was the most damaged of them all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He found her, one late nocturnal hour, within a room known as the sky loft. It was smaller than the others, yet with a transparent ceiling that permitted the view into the far reaches of space. Under this cast of starlight and nebulous glowing, Shiro found her lying on a cushioned floor, staring up into space. A glowing blue hologram of a tall and an armored and finely clothed man sat at her side. He heard them speaking, but in a tongue that was not familiar to him.

The door slid shut behind him with an audible hiss that gathered the Princess and the hologram’s attention. Two pairs of eyes landed right on him and as soon as they did, Princess Allura frowned and looked away.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt…?” Shiro began.

“No,” the hologram spoke and his eyes smiled along with his mouth. “In fact, I was just about to leave my daughter to her thoughts.”

“Daughter?” Shiro asked.

“I am King Alfor,” the hologram said, bowing his head. “Former Ruler of Altea. Though do not let it fool you. I am only an afterimage of the man I used to be.”

“I see,” Shiro nodded, bowing with respect. “Even so, it is an honor to meet you… your highness.”

“The honor is mine, Chief Officer Shirogane.” Alfor’s hologram said before flickering out of sight. Shiro could only blink and leave an unanswered question to hang from his lips before realizing he was alone. With the Princess.

Shiro shifted uncomfortably, uncertain whether to approach or stay where he was.

“You might as well come and sit,” Allura answered his dilemma for him. Shiro sucked in a breath, hesitating once before allowing his feet to carry him towards her. He stopped a few feet away, settling down on the floor before allowing himself to lay down. He glanced at her every so often, trying not to be too awkward as she stared into space.

A long moment passed where neither of them spoke a word. After a while, the awkward tension faded for it had nothing else to do. Before long, Shiro found himself strangely lulled by the sound of her breathing.

“I used to love staring up at the stars,” Allura said suddenly. Shiro turned his head to look at her and saw that familiar wretchedness in her gaze that he had found on the day they met. “To me, they meant adventure and glory. Thousands of stories and lives untold, just waiting to become real to me…”

She drifted off, eyes welling up before she turned on her side, her back facing him.

“Back home,” Shiro began. “We had different constellations. Everyone had a story. Every story was different depending on the culture of each country… where I was from, we had a story about the milky way–what we call our spiral galaxy. It was so popular we have a special festival for it called _Tanabata._ Or, the evening of the seventh…”

Another silence filled the space. “What was the story about?” Allura asked quietly.

Shiro smiled to himself. “Two lovers. A Princess and a cow herder. The princess, Orihime, was beautiful among all others and a talented seamstress. She poured her passion and devotion to creating beautiful clothes by the river known as the milky way. But despite all the clothes she could make, none would ever help her find love and so she despaired. Her father, a powerful God of the heavens, loved her so much and so arranged for her to meet the cow herder Hikoboshi, for he was kindhearted and devoted to tending his flock in a way that pleased her father. They fell in love the moment they met. But their passion caused her to stop weaving and for him to lose track of his herd over the heavens. This angered Orihime’s father and he forbid them from ever being together again.

"But she begged him to let him see her lover and he finally decided that on the seventh day of the seventh month, they would be able to cross the river and be together. But one day it rained so much the river grew too strong and broke the bridge where Hokiboshi crossed to meet her. He drowned in the river and Orihime despaired. Her father heard her cries and made it so that the bridge would unite them through the realms, on the day of the seventh. So, each year, we prayed for there to be good weather on the seventh day, so that the two lovers could be united once again.”

Shiro glanced at Allura when he finished, somewhat nervous to hear her thoughts. Her silver hair was splayed all around her, glimmering beneath the light of the distant stars like a tapestry of starlight itself. He realized then she was only wearing a simple nightgown, thin and sheer enough to see the curves of her skin.

“It’s a beautiful story,” Allura said after a while. Shiro looked away.

“It is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A week after that night, Shiro was awakened by the sound of his door hissing and sliding open. He swiftly pushed himself to his feet, hand moments from lighting up in the dark. What difficult cobwebs of dark dreams had covered his eyes were quickly dispelled when he spotted Coran.

“Coran?” Shiro croaked, rubbing his eyes with his left hand. “What’s the matter, is something wrong?”

“It’s time,” Coran announced, urging Shiro with his hands. “We need to get you presentable.”

“What time is it?” Shiro said through a yawn.

“No time for that. Let’s go.”

Through the dark, Shiro was escorted from his room and into a chamber by Allura’s quarters. There he was told to disrobe and shower, clean himself thoroughly using soaps and smelling oils that were meant to assist in the process. The simple act of showering did more than enough to wake him and by the time he was towel-dried and tossed into a blue robe, Shiro’s stomach was cramping with anxiety and nerves.

They didn’t tell him much, only softly uttered wishes for luck and guidance. It did nothing to help him. Before he could even gather his bearings, however, Shiro was sanctimoniously thrown into the darkened main chamber and left alone. Once his eyes adjusted, he spotted a large bed by faintly lit sconces in the center. On the bed was a sitting figure, covered with a long hood and so still, Shiro thought it was a shadow.

“Who’s there?” Shiro asked the darkness, swallowing down a thick lump in his throat.

“It’s me,” Allura’s voice was soft and shaky, as though she had spoken through a shudder. “Sorry to have you awakened so abruptly.”

“It’s…fine.” Shiro rubbed his hands on the back of his neck, feeling so out of place it was almost physically painful. He took that moment to realize there was an odd scent filling the room, like a strange odor he had never smelled before but seemed to leave him feeling alerted yet calm.

“Please,” he heard and saw the shadow move, the faint outline of an arm gesturing towards the other side of the bed. Shiro gnawed on his cheek, walking stiffly toward the bed until his knees nearly crashed into the side. He bit back a curse as he crawled onto its surface to sit a good distance away from Allura’s shadowed outline. 

“Lay down,” Allura ordered softly. Shiro’s heart rate skyrocketed even as he slowly sank into the comfortable sheets and mattress. It was impressively comfortable, but nothing about the circumstance helped him calm down. The fabric of his robe was already applying a different friction to his thighs and his limp cock that was starting to leave him more than anxious and somewhat stirred.

Allura’s hands appeared over his abdomen, unfastening his robe and opening it with such care it left him feeling hyper-aware of every accidental brush of her skin on his. Just the thought of her moving on top of him was enough to get the blood to concentrate between his thighs.

He had half expected her to just grab him and get to work, but instead, her hands hovered over his abs and moved up toward his chest. When her skin touched him, Shiro physically flinched.

“Sorry,” she pulled her hands away. Shiro let out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” he said, scowling at himself for feeling disappointed at her retreat. The disappointment faded when her hands landed back on his skin, this time on his abdomen. Her touch was feather light, but her digits scoured the dips and curves of his torso, and when her pinky grazed his nipple, Shiro sucked in a hiss.

“Did that hurt?” Allura asked.

“N-no,” he replied. _It felt good._  “I’m fine… keep going.”

By his approval, Allura continued her prodding touches, this time giving brief focuses on his nipples before following the trail on his belly down to his navel. Shiro bit down on his tongue hard enough to almost draw blood. He was getting harder and harder the more she touched him. Each caress was making his head spin and he had to focus on clutching his hands on the sheets beneath him from doing something stupid. Like touching her too. 

But her knees were right by his arm and thigh and he could swear he felt her radiating warmth. Shiro struggled to keep his mind together, but it dared to fracture when her fingers grazed his shaft.

A broken sound escaped his throat then, a strangled sort of moan that turned into less than controlled gasping. It was unbelievable how quickly he was unraveling at just the slightest touches from her, but his body was reacting so acutely, he couldn’t focus enough to wonder why.

She didn’t ask if he was okay, surging onwards with a slow curiosity that caused his body to tense with fire and electricity. He felt fabric tear beneath his prosthetic fingers, but Allura didn’t hear. Or if she did, she chose to ignore it. This time her fingers circled around his length and Shiro fought the urge to buck in her palms until he erupted.

She dragged experimental fingers up through the curve of him, paying close attention to every ridge and vein. Shiro’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and moaned with a little more abandon when her grip tightened and began to experiment with a rhythm, her other hand fondling the sensitive sacks beneath.

“A-Allura,” Shiro groaned and he _swore_  he heard her moan or hum in response. “If you keep doing that I’ll… I’ll…”

She seemed to understand enough to withdraw and Shiro let out a breath that was both parts relief and frustration. One of his arms reached up to grip to his hair and pull at the white strands until his scalp screamed.

“Are you ready?” Allura asked. It took him a moment to respond, yet all Shiro could do was give a quick series of nods as he attempted to control his breathing.

He squeezed his eyes shut when he saw her figure shift and straddle him. Her warm and smooth skin was pressed against his thighs and hips now, toes hooking under his knees. He felt her sink down, felt her grab his length with gentle fingers before he was pressed to heat, and silk, and a wetness that had him grasping at the snapping tethers of his control.

Shiro’s back arched, hips bucking, jaw thrown back as he tried to keep himself from grabbing her and slamming her down onto his length. But he kept still, catching in a thin moment of lucidity how she had paused as soon as he was barely an inch inside.

Allura took in a breath and began to shift her hips in bizarre undulations that must’ve helped her become accustomed to his girth, but did nothing to aid his self-control. His right hand found her thigh and squeezed.

Allura gasped and froze but suddenly doubled over when her hips slid further down. Her hair slid against his arm and chest, and he felt her press her hands against his stomach and the bed. She was gasping, trembling overhead and Shiro felt concern shoot from his mind through the rest of his body.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” she replied and he felt her breath against his chest. “I’m…you’re just so _big.”_  

Any other man would’ve probably puffed his chest up in appreciation. Shiro couldn’t help but chew on his lower lip instead. “Do you want to stop?”

She shifted and it was just enough that he opened his eyes and met her gaze from behind the hood, their noses just centimeters apart. Allura breathed and he tasted it. Without a word, she sank down the rest of the way, meeting his eyes and watching how his body seemed to want to curl and thrash when the rest of her finally accepted him all the way to the hilt.

She was so slick, so hot, it threatened to burn him down to the core. Her walls shifted against his length, and Shiro moaned through parted lips.

“Does this… feel good?” Allura asked him and he almost didn’t hear it. Instead, his hands betrayed him, reaching to grab her hips and grip with enough strength to bruise.

“M-move,” Shiro begged through a tight throat.

“Move?” Allura asked as if the concept was foreign to her.

“L-like this,” he said and shifted her hips up as he arched his rear into the bed. She moved, no doubt confused by his actions until he brought her back down, and his hips jerked up, sheathing himself back inside her with a jolt. Allura let out a tight moan, one of surprise and shock. It spurred Shiro onwards, and he repeated the motion until he felt her fingers dig into his skin. Up and down, Shiro mindlessly guided Allura into a rhythm.

She fell further down against him until her bare breasts were flush against his chest and she was panting along with him.

“This… this isn’t…” Allura tried to speak but her voice broke off when one of his hands reached around to grip to the firm flesh of her rear. Something in her snapped then, and suddenly she was grinding back and forth against his hips. Her voice splintered into whines and whimpers that filled Shiro’s chest. Shiro was going mad with the sensation of it all and his stomach was coiling and coiling with the hot desire to erupt inside her.

Yet he remembered that simple lesson Coran gave him concerning their act. His body reacted and his fingers reached down to seek out what he knew was available for human females. His thumb found a similar nub, but it was slightly further down. His touch circled around it and the reaction was explosive.

Allura back arched, her whines splitting into full-blown moans and she began to ride him with an almost vicious vigor. Her walls were fluttering around him, gripping him as she slid up and quivering when she slammed back down. Suddenly, he felt it. That extra part of her that he heard from Coran existed but couldn’t fathom until it was curled around the head of his cock. It slid and flicked against him like a tongue or something similar and It was driving him far too quickly out of control than he could hope to announce.

His grip on Allura’s hips was like a vice now and Shiro threw his head back as soon as her walls clamped down around him. Allura let out a tight moan, one that shuddered through her and made both of them shatter without a single word of warning.

Shiro came just a second after she did, erupting and emptying himself fully until he felt some of it slather his inner thighs. Allura collapsed on top of him, all soft curves and heated breathing. They were left gasping and panting, letting out small moans of effort that neither of them expected.

“That was…” Allura breathed eons later, swallowing down a breath. “Violent.”

Shiro huffed, but wasn’t sure if he was laughing or not. “S-sorry…”

“It’s alright…” Allura murmured. "It was enjoyable... in it's own way..."

After some time, she pulled away and laid on the opposite side of the bed. Shiro was left alone on his side, limp and worn out and feeling beyond ripped from his own skin. He had never climaxed so hard before, and her lack of presence was doing things to his chest than he could be prepared for.

Minutes later, Allura rose, her back facing him. “Do you regret this?”

Her question was almost missed by his body’s need to fall asleep. Shiro forced himself to stay awake. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

his sleepiness faded for a moment and Shiro looked at her through the dim light and swallowing darkness.

“I took from you what I don’t deserve,” Allura said after a moment. “All for the sake of hope…all for the sake of revenge.”

“Is this all this was?” Shiro asked, but he didn’t feel anger or resentment. It was a curious question that didn’t care much for an answer. All that mattered was how her shoulders curled and her head bowed quietly.

“I wish we could be like the people in your story.” Shiro is surprised by this. “I wish we could fall in love just as easily…What would it be like? If you had met my father when he was alive? Would you have courted me? Would we have fallen to the whims of our own passion so easily we forget duty like children do? Like fools?”

Shiro pushed himself up to his elbows, staring at her without words and with a new twist in his chest.

“What would that be like?” he murmured a moment later, smiling a rueful smile.

Allura’s breaths shook with a gasp and a sob. She moved, her hood falling from her head. Shiro could not know why he did but he did. Why he threw a hand out to catch her wrist. How his movement and abrupt connection made her jerk around to look at him. How she lost momentum and ended up falling on the bed by his side… or why he pushed himself to hover over her.

In the dark he could vaguely see her tears, in the dark he could only see how her eyes stared up at him, shocked and in pain.

“Let me try,” Shiro said, the words surprising her–surprised him. “Would you let me try?”

“Try what?”

He shook his head, said nothing. His face lowered, lips brushing hers before pressing certainly and connecting them in a different way. She tensed then melted, letting their lips broaden their connection, deepen their touch.

He pulled away and Allura gazed up at him.

“Let me make love to you.” He said.

“Why?”

“One less reason to hate Zarkon.”

Allura drew in a breath. “And if it doesn’t work?”

Shiro pressed a hand under her jaw, his heart wavering yet true. “Then I’ll keep trying until it does.”

And when he lowered his mouth to hers once more there was less violence between them, less hatred and wretchedness. In his mind, Shiro wondered how a cow herder could ever achieve the love of a princess. In her kiss, though, Shiro felt something close to an answer, or a dream, or an epiphany swell behind his eyes until all that was left was starlight.


End file.
